


Just One Yesterday

by BrookeSutter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Forbidden Love, Smut, Twins (Clarke and Original Character)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrookeSutter/pseuds/BrookeSutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1: Clarke and her twin brother, Ayden Griffin, move to Mount Weather after their father gets a job in Japan. They have a rough relationship with their mother. Ayden has a few problems that Clarke thinks he's handled but when he makes quick friends within the first week of school, she learns that she might be wrong. Meanwhile, Clarke is falling for one of his new friends--Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

PART I:

**_I want to tell you a story that won’t change your life._ **

**_It’s the story of_ us _…_**

-x- One

-x-

The vibrations of the navy blue car going eighty miles per hour down the empty backroads lull her into a half-sleep in which she can hear her brother humming Top 40 hits and tapping the steering wheel, but can’t muster up enough energy to tell him to shut the fuck up. Somehow, she accepts this the way she accepts most things—silently. It isn’t until he mutters, “God, this is unfortunate…” that azure eyes flutter open in an attempt to darkly glare at him. Ayden Griffin chuckles softly before he points a finger at a dark green highway sign.

Through blurry eyes, she reads:

_Welcome to Mount Weather, South Carolina_

_Population: 2,485_

_Home of the Mountain Men,_

_2014 Division III Football Champions_

Clarke groans melodramatically, tossing her head back so it bounces against Ayden’s 2015 Porsche 911 Convertible’s leather seats. She doesn’t know a damn thing about cars, but every time someone asks what her brother is driving he feels the need to recite the whole name. After a while, that’s all she could do, too. The only _true_ knowledge she had on the subject of his car was the fact it wasn’t designed for road trips.

He responds to her groan with a blunt, “This is where New Yorkers’ dreams come to die.” Yesterday morning, they’d woken up New Yorkers. By tonight, they would be sleeping in a tired town that clearly focuses way too much on their football program rather than academics. Clarke wants nothing more than to fall into the bed she left behind in their father’s expensive Manhattan loft. Jake Griffin did own the two top floors of the _best_ building in the city. _Still_ owned it.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Her mumble is nearly suffocated by the loud rumblings of his radio. Her parents didn’t seem to care that she had friends in New York and a pretty impressive life, too. They didn’t care that her heart belonged to Manhattan and “Arnie’s Pizza Plaza”, but her parents weren’t very observant once she turned fifteen. Her friends were good people too, they only occasionally did drugs and that was just pot. In Clarke’s case, she’d grown up with her three best friends.

Ayden left people behind as well…but they weren’t really the best group of guys. Her brother was different when it came to his friends. She preferred unadulterated fun whereas Ayden got a little reckless, maybe slightly belligerent in his behavior. What was that infamous quote? _“Surround yourself with interesting people…_ ” or some sappy shit like that? “Now all of our _cool_ friends back home can make us the laughing stock of the social club. About how long do you think it will take us to change our names to Bubba and Fran?”

“Hmm, you look more like a Leonard to me.” Clarke cracks a small smile while her eyes scan the flashing scenery. _Trees. Trees. Trees. Oh, look another sign. Trees. Trees._ After a few minutes of quietly watching her entire glamourous life fly away at now, _eighty-eight miles per hour_ , she speaks up. “You’re hilarious by the way. The second we entered I-95, you lost your so-called cool friends. They’re probably mourning us with tequila shots as we speak at Club Pure.”

“The irony of my _former_ friends going to a club called Pure does not escape me.”

“Not much does.”

Which is unfortunately, true.

“It’s because I’m your older brother.” This statement grants him a rough shove, “Hey! I’m driving and unless you want to wreck before we get to our favorite place on Earth—wait, why didn’t we think about this before? Suicide by car…now we don’t have to go to school tomorrow. Good thinking little sister.”

“Okay, first off we’re seven minutes apart.” Clarke crossed her arms over her chest, her arms digging into the zippers on her favorite leather jacket. Her best friend in the entire world, Raven Reyes, bought it for her last week when her small group bid each other goodbye. “Secondly, I would do anything to not have to go to this stupid school with these stupid, normal people.” _Normal,_ when accustomed to a certain lifestyle, was a curse.

He breathes, “Still older.”

“Whatever.” Clarke sighs before she starts playing with the touch screen sound system. If she has to listening to _Love Me Like You Do_ one more fucking time…

Ayden eventually speaks again when they exit the backroad, finding themselves in front of a stop light. Clarke knows she’s holding her breath because as soon as they pass the boundary, there’s no going back. Not that they had much of a choice in the first place. Her brother asks faintly, “Do you think she’s even home?”

“Mom? No way, why would she be home?” Clarke puffs with a shake of her head. Abigail Griffin was never the type of woman who devoted her time to her children. The twins had often considered that they were only conceived to fix an unfixable marriage. Her entire life revolved around the hospital—even if her move into Mount Weather only occurred three years ago when their father moved into the city. Abby claimed she needed new surroundings and New York just wasn’t doing it for her anymore even if she lived in a small city, related to Buffalo in nature, called Ark. It was their hometown and where their parents met, married, and decided to have a family before the inevitable divorce. The drama they carried was unreal but she could always find the words to summarize how their mother felt, “We’re only her children.”

“Right.”

 

“I wish dad didn’t get that dumb job overseas. He could work from home. He didn’t have to move to Japan.” Clarke had exhausted the argument with her father, tearfully and with a raised voice, but she eventually lost her battle. Her father spared no time in arranging it so his children would be doomed to spend the next two years in _America_ with their mother. After a while, Clarke started to feel bad for how much guilt she was putting on his shoulders. His dream was to be a successful engineer and he was just serving his goals by accepting the job in Tokyo. At least he promised to stay in touch unlike Abby.

Clarke had always gotten the sneaking suspicion that Jake valued the children more than Abby—actually, it wasn’t that sneaking. He was the only person who fought for custody and she knew it bothered him deeply to have to surrender it to Abby for the “better” of their education. Clarke tried to argue that any country had a better education program than the United States but he swiftly pointed out that Clarke had three years in French and Spanish, not Japanese. He didn’t even have to explain that Ayden had failed Spanish I—not once, not twice—three times.

“Yeah, me too.” Her brother reached across the console and grabbed her hand. It was an action they’d been doing since they started walking. Blindly reaching for each other’s hands for support, whether it be because Clarke is stumbling down the sidewalk after too many Fireball swigs or because Ayden is overwhelmed—they always have each other’s back.

The glassy gleam in his eyes makes a lump form in her throat. Clarke isn’t taking the move well but she knows that Ayden is taking it worse. He was always the unnervingly wild to her serene, contemplative calm. “What are you thinking about?” Clarke inhales through her nose while she shifts her body until her back is pressed against the cold glass window. She’s relieved that he has the top up for the drive. Not that they brought any bags, their father had sent their things because he didn’t trust them enough to pack what they need.

His other hand tightens on the shiny steering wheel while he finally starts in on what he’s clearly been turning around in his head for the last ten hours. “We have six months until we’re eighteen and this whole court order thing because null and void.” Ayden quickly glances at her before he returns to the road. His smooth jaw is set in a serious line as he continues, “We have to live with mom now because of school and the agreement they signed when dad got the job but after our birthday, we’re free to do whatever the hell we want.”

It was always “we” with Clarke and Ayden. He would never leave her behind to rot in Mount Weather and she would return the favor. It was a set agreement created by them the day they were born. Together forever against all the odds, against all the ups and downs of their sometimes hectic lives.

He knows her better than she knows herself.

“What will we do, then?” Clarke straightens her body as she contemplates the entirety of what he is suggesting.

He lifts his shoulder tensely before letting them fall, “If you want to go back to New York, we can go back to New York…if you want to go to California to see Lincoln…we can go to Cali for _a little bit_.” It was along running joke between all three of them that Lincoln was the first attempt to save Abby and Jake’s marriage. Abby claimed she did not have the time to be pregnant, so they adopted Lincoln from a woman who lived in East L.A. He was their older brother in the ways that it counted. Clarke didn’t even care if they didn’t share the same fair skin, she loved Lincoln so much and she was exceptionally proud to say that the tattoo artist, small-time drug dealer was her eldest brother.

He moved out to California to find his birth parents, failing to really find what he’d imagined over the years as they dealt with the divorce and the move into New York. He decided he preferred their parents over the ones that gave him away after stumbling across their section eight apartment, their heroin addiction and the slew of half-siblings they could care less about. That said, Lincoln never returned to the city after coming to the conclusion he needed to start his own life. “His friends are all angst-ridden and really kill the mood.”

“You’re just mad because Lexa wanted me more than she wanted you.” Clarke sings, her laugh blending in with the blind melody she could not carry. Lexa was a beautiful girl who covered her model features with heavy eye makeup and grunge clothing. She had competed for Clarke’s attention over their short visit and successfully captured Ayden’s attention.

“I thought we were never going to talk about the Lexa Fiasco of 2014 again.” Ayden was smirking despite his serious tone. He would never get over the fact that Lexa chose her over him. He was an absolute lady’s man, typically.

“It was a year ago…and seriously? The Lexa Fiasco?” Clarke’s lips rise after a few seconds as she remembers that summer. It was nice to spend time on the ocean front with Lincoln and listen to him recount the most ridiculous tattoos he’d done for people. “We made out. Her girlfriend keyed your car—“

“Clarke, it was a 196—“ He started with a raised voice. It was safe to assume that he wasn’t over the fact that the driver’s side door was destroyed in his old, restored car. In Clarke’s defense, the seats weren’t even that comfortable. Costia did them a favor when she took a set a keys to the awful orange paint job. Plus, the situation taught Clarke a lesson about romance and affairs.

It’s really not that fun.

“I honestly don’t give a damn what it was.” Clarke snickers just to piss him off. “We both know you’re not mad about the car, you’re mad because I have more game than you.” She was only joking with him because she _hardly_ had any game compared to him. It wasn’t that she lacked the allure to get a man, she just never tried and always rejected those who approached her.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes, “Says the virgin.”

“That’s a choice.” Clarke tells him flatly. He knows it’s a choice and even if it wasn’t, Ayden’s the type of brother that makes sure that no one goes near her when he’s around. In their new town, she assumes he’ll always be around. All they would have is each other—them against the townies. “So, in six months we’re out of here?”

“That’s the plan.” He nods.

“You and me against the world…” Clarke starts their version of ‘I love you’ as they roll through another stop light and make a rough turn.

“Forever and ever.” He finishes, squeezing her hand.

**_I want to tell you how it all began,_ **

**_And how it all ended…_ **

-x- Two -x-

Clarke and Ayden know the schedule by heart after multiple, urgently marked, e-mails from their mother’s medical assistant, Jackson. They were supposed to be at Mount Weather High by 8:30 AM for their first period class this morning. _Fuck._ As she sleepily moved around their shared bathroom—Clarke putting the finishing touches on her makeup and Ayden brushing his teeth rapidly—she couldn’t help but think that they should have arrived in Mount Weather sooner to prepare for the early morning routine.

Ayden spit into the sink, turning the water on to flush out the white foam before he turned to her. “What if she’s downstairs?” His voice is cautious as if he doesn’t know how she’ll respond so early in the day to questions pertaining to their mother. He turns to face the mirror, rubbing a hand over his freshly shave jaw. Objectively, her brother is an attractive person. To be honest, it ran in the family—even Lincoln was ridiculously attractive and he only had the last name Griffin. In their youth, Ayden and Clarke shared the same blonde hair but as he matured, his hair had shifted to a sandy blonde. There were a lot of people that said he looked like a younger version of Alex Pettyfer.

Yes, he did let this get to his head because his ego was ridiculously large after living in a city where females are open about their sexuality.

Clarke counters, flicking the black mascara over her lashes a few good times. “What if she isn’t?”

“Can I be disappointed either way?” He reaches behind him, grabbing his navy blue t-shirt and throwing it over his head. Clarke hates it every time he’s ready before her—it’s like he has to remind her that he can pull off the flawless look better than her without much prep. The whole thing is actually quite sickening.

After a small slot of consideration, Clarke nods and puts the mascara brush back into its purple container. “The only thing reliable about her parenting style is disappointment, so yeah.” Her voice is distorted as she runs her finger across the light pink lip gloss on her mouth. She doesn’t want to look like a painted whore but she doesn’t want to look bland, either.

He scrunches his nose and lets out a low chuckle, “Do they put that on Mother’s Day cards?”

“Does it matter? We’ll be gone by then.” She tells him quietly so the housekeepers won’t overhear their plans, even if they were in a private area. Abby could not stop them from leaving but it would be better if they slipped away in the middle of the night rather than announcing the fact that they plan on ditching this town as soon as possible.

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

-x-

Mount Weather High School was everything she expected it be; underfunded, packed full of idiots with obvious staring problems. Her brother extended a hand to her and she gratefully took it as they stood on the steps of their school—sue them for being an hour late on the first day. It was her fault for having to stop at the coffee shop but he was driving, he could have said no. “You and me against the world.” Ayden breaths slowly, his grip tighten before he pushes open chipped bright green door. People fan out in the halls in transition between classes.

“Forever and ever.” She mutters back when she notices the beginnings of people’s curious looks. _Chin up._ Ayden sends her an encouraging glance before he looks down at his phone. He’s a little ahead of her so it looks like she’s being pulled around after him like an innocent child. It appears as if he’s checking a text message but he’s really studying the expertly highlighted maps of the school brought-to-him by Jackson and maybe a little too much down time in such a small area. He finds their lockers fairly quickly, releasing her hand so he can fiddle with the lock. Clarke casually leans against the row of ugly ass green lockers and watches him fail for the second time to force his open. After forever, it pops open with a horrid sound and Clarke suppresses a groan of distaste for the crude noise.

“Six months.” He tells her quietly—her obvious hesitance and overall dissatisfaction was smeared across her face. She wasn’t even trying to conceal it from her classmates. Their opinions barely mattered anyway. “Six months and this place will just be a nightmare.”

“It’s already a nightmare.” She replies smoothly even if her eyes are rocky ocean waves. Clarke knows by the atmosphere that she won’t fit in here. It was different for Ayden—he had one of those open personalities, he could evolve into any group but Clarke was forever _Clarke._ She was herself and never tried to conform to fit the standards of anyone. “At least Jackson managed to put us in the same classes. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She knows, even as she says it, that she’s silently pleading with him to stay with her. They were a _we_ indefinitely, but when they got involved in social groups—things changed. He changed. Without Raven and the boys, she knew she was completely fucked when it came to a social life.

“Probably make better grades.” He offers with a wicked smirk and Clarke takes this as an unofficial promise.

Clarke giggles, feeling lighter as he looks down at her. Their height difference is ridiculous. “They say there can only be one smart twin. Looks like you got the raw end of the deal.”

“At least I’m pretty.” Ayden makes his voice higher as if he’s quoting legally blonde or something. “Pretty people don’t have to be smart.”

“No they do not, sexy.” A tall, willowy brunette approaches them with three girls on her heel. It’s clear by the eyes on her that she means something in the whole cliché clique fashion of High Schools. Of course, that doesn’t mean she matters to the Griffin twins at all. Clarke wants to laugh at the gold ‘R’ hanging around her neck because c’mon, _gold initials?_ The fad was probably a decade old at this point. She thinks, _God, I really am in hell._

“Here we go…”

And just like that, he’s breaking a promise he never _truly_ made.

The brunette smiles, “I’m Roma.”

“Ayden.” He smirks because he’s a notorious flirt even when he’s behind schedule and trying to figure out where to put his things, “And I’m not interested.” It was his go-to strategy to get girls to have sex with him. He was a real charmer when it came to playing off of people’s insecurities—a good reason why Clarke didn’t trust males.

They lie to get what they want.

Roma laughs, “Oh, so you’re going to play hard to get? I can play cat to your mouse.”

_Oh my god._

“I’m going to find our class.” Clarke bites her lip to contain her laugh as she pushes off the lockers. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

“No promises.” He replies, to which Clarke sees Roma smile widely.

She uses her phone to guide her through the hallways, the map assisting her more than she thought it would. Her second period class was AP United States History—or what the nerds referred to as APUSH. It wasn’t her first choice but Jackson insisted via her mother to the point where any choice was obsolete. “Good strategy, freshman.” She doesn’t pay attention to the voice addressing her. Clarke was used to the comments from strange men on the streets to New York, but none of them were as insulting as being called a freshman. Like, hello? Her boobs did not scream ‘I’m a freshman’, they actually roughly translated to _Victoria Secret Model._ “Hey, Princess! I’m talking to you.”

Clarke flips on her heel to glare at the asshole who so rudely wanted to capture her attention, “Did you just call me _Princess_?” Somehow, she’s able to look over the fact that the person behind the gruff voice was pleasantly attractive. He obviously lifted weights, worked out on the regular—and that _jaw line._ He was someone she could draw rather than landscapes and animals. She finds herself fascinated by the freckles on his face and his dark curly hair—the way his lips are lifted into this smirk that shouldn’t make her feel warm. Without much thought she takes a step forward, “And for your information, I am not a freshman.” Her voice isn’t as pissed off and Clarke knows that the stranger noticed her shift in tone.

“Yeah, right.” He scoffs even as he’s checking her out. His eyes linger on her crop top and her chest. Clarke can’t help but think, _See, not a freshman._ “I’ve never seen you around here.” He says lowly, words dripping like honey off his tongue.

“And you know all the girls in this school?” Clarke takes another step forward, again not thinking about her actions.

“The mildly attractive ones.” He winks in response and Clarke tightens her grip on her phone. _Prick,_ she decides instantly. But that doesn’t make her step away from him. There’s too much electricity pulsing through her blood disguised as annoyance and semi-attraction. (Who the fuck is she kidding? She’s super attracted to him).

“Right.” Clarke rolls her eyes and tries to hone in on her inner-Reyes. She’d watched her friend take control in bars since they were fifteen. It wasn’t that hard to observe how-to-get-a-man 101. “Not that it matters but I recently moved here, so…”

“When?”

“Does it matter?”

“I have to fact-check your story, freshman.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He even adds in a shrug and a small grin as if she’ll swoon at his feet.

“Last night.”

“Last night?”

“Are you hard-of-hearing or something?” Clarke holds up her hand to prevent him from responding to her insult, “Listen, I can’t afford to be late to two classes today so forgive me if I don’t continue this interview with you.” Clarke smiles as she says it, swearing to god it wouldn’t be the last time she ever saw him.

**_Even if you don’t want to hear it._ **

-x- Three -x-

Ever since their father told her the news of his new job, Clarke has come to the conclusion that she doesn’t have good luck. She’s FaceTiming Lincoln while studying the required reading for her AP Bio class when she hears Ayden running up the stairs. Her older brother laughs when Ayden flings her door open, “Do you have any cash?”

Clarke turns her attention back to Lincoln and explains, “We’ve been in school for three days and he already has a group of friends and is on the verge of hooking up with the head cheerleader. I had to drive my own car to school today because he wanted to hang out with said friends after school.” She doesn’t drive a fancy car but it is brand new. Her father had it shipped from New York a few weeks back despite her resistance to take anything extremely important with her. If she didn’t take her car, how could she ever truly say that she moved?

Again, no such luck.

“C’mon, Clarke, the pizza man is waiting downstairs and the guys are hungry.”

 _“The guys?”_ Lincoln replies with a deep chuckle, _“What a fucking loser for saying that.”_

“Fine. Yeah, I have cash but I’ll pay the pizza man because you won’t bring me the change back.” She sighs when she has to tell Lincoln goodbye, “I miss seeing your face every day. You have to come visit us in hell.” She doesn’t know what she would do if she was an only child. She imagines her life would be boring and lonely without two brothers that live to make her laugh and look moronic.

 _“Not a chance in Mount Weather.”_ Clarke sarcastically laughs at his pun while he says, _“I love you little sister.”_ Lincoln is always sincere when he tells his siblings he loves them. Even the static-like connection can’t interfere with how much he cares.

“I love you bigger brother.” She replies because Ayden stole the nickname _big brother_ the second he started focusing on their seven minute age difference. She’d witnessed the argument about the nickname and it wasn’t pretty even if it was all in good fun. “Ayden loves you too even if he’s been an ass right now.”

_“Whatever, we both know he’s a bitch.”_

“Okay, Jackass.” Ayden replies with grin on his face, moving into the view of the camera so he can flick Lincoln off. Lincoln returns the gesture and ends the call afterwards.

Clarke doesn’t think about the fact that she’s wearing a pair of short shorts and a crop top when she walks down the stairs. It’s her house, she’s allowed to be comfortable. Unfortunately, Ayden does pay attention to the way she’s dressed and mumbles, “I could have waited for you to put on some more clothes.”

Forever the protective type.

“Don’t worry, I have no intentions of hanging out with your loser friends. I’m studying for two, remember?” They nearly jog down the stairs, money in hand to the front door. Clarke doesn’t pay much attention to the boys in the dining room as they pizza man places the cardboard boxes in Ayden’s hands and accepts the cash from Clarke. She gives him a generous tip because he waited so long and pockets the change.

When she shuts the door, Ayden comments. “Two more seconds and I would have punched him in the face. No one ogles my little sister and gets away with it.” Her eyes follow him into the dining room, catching all of his friends moving their heads down to look at the table instead of her. All but one.

Of course her brother befriended the asshole from the hallway. She doesn’t have time to focus on the amused expression in his eyes. “First off, _seven minutes_ older.” Clarke doesn’t know who she’s clarifying their age difference for, but she feels the need to do it. “And he wasn’t ogling me. He was accepting the fee for the unhealthy amount of pizza you ordered.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ayden retorts maturely. “Guys, this is my _little_ sister Clarke.”

“Twin sister.” She corrects before she crosses her arms and leans against the frame of the dining room. Her blonde hair is up in a messy bun and she seriously looks like she’s been binge studying for the last two days but she doesn’t really care. These people are irrelevant to her life, they won’t even matter in six months when she and Ayden are free from Mount Weather and their mother. Clarke doesn’t even know why he bothered to make friends in the first place. “Are you going to introduce your friends to me or am I the only one that gets an introduction?”

“Hmm, oh…yeah, I guess—“ He points to a creepy looking kid with soft hair. “—that’s John but everyone calls him Murphy, you can call him John.” _Ugh._ “That’s Nathan, everyone calls him Miller and you _can_ call him Miller.” Clarke doesn’t appreciate the show her brother is putting on but she accepts it nonetheless. He’s making sure his friends know the she is off-limits while simultaneously telling her who to stay away from. “Then we have Kyle Wick—“

“Let me guess, you go by Wick?”

“Ten points for blondie.” Wick winks playfully at her before turning his attention to Ayden. He raises his hands in defense, “Dude, I have a girlfriend.”

“Right, you can call him _Kyle._ ”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, “I think I’ll call him Wick.”

“That’s my girl.” Wick smirks and gives her the ‘call me’ signal. There’s something about his personality that makes her laugh. She could actually justify Ayden being friends with the guy unlike Murphy.

“She is most certainly _not_ your girl.” Ayden tells him but moves on, “And last but not least, my favorite friend Bellamy Blake.” He pauses, “He just goes by Bellamy.”

“You sure?” Clarke asks as she narrows her eyes in the direction of Bellamy, “I think a lot of people might call him _Jackass._ ”

Ayden chuckles, “Oh, so you two have met then?” He’s satisfied with her response. It’s clear that she has no intentions of going after any of his friends.

“Unfortunately.” She sighs heavily before smirking at Wick, “I would love to stick around but I have to make sure _we_ pass AP Bio, so enjoy.” Clarke notices out of the corner of her eye that Bellamy is smiling to himself. She’s certain this isn’t going to be their last interaction by the look on his face. It should bother her, but it doesn’t.

“Without you?” Wick chuckles, “Never.”

“Goodnight, Princess.” She hears Bellamy call after her when she’s climbing the stairs to go back to her room.

She can’t help but roll her eyes and smile.

**_Even if the smallest details are insignificant._ **

-x-

Four

-x-

Ayden becomes Mr. Popularity a week into school and somehow, Clarke hadn’t made a single friend. Sure, there was Wick who liked to walk by her locker with his girlfriend, Nicole Armstrong, and comment on her outfit but other than that she barely associated with her classmates. Eventually, she calls her best friend (and least dramatic) friend from New York, praying she hadn’t disowned her. Raven Reyes answers on the second ring, _“I thought you were dead!”_

“Close.” Clarke grumbles as she slams her locker door. “I can honestly feel my social skills crumbling to the ground. I only talk to one person other than Ayden here… and I mean, Wick isn’t even _my_ friend.”

 _“What kind of fucking name is Wick?”_ She can hear Raven laughing, _“I’m missing you like crazy Little Griffin.”_

“You too, Reyes.” She hums while she walks out of the school, skipping down the steps so she can get into her car. Again. Because Ayden had plans with his friends. Again. “Maybe I’ll come up one weekend.” Even as she says it, she knows it’s a lie. Although her interaction with her mother has been limited since the move, she can guarantee that Abby wouldn’t let her anywhere near New York let alone Manhattan because Clarke was the type to never return.

_“Mhmm, yeah okay. What if I told you I’m getting in my car now…and I’m going to drive this P.O.S. all the way to your shitty new town.”_

Clarke wants to cry like a sentimental fool.

_“And what if I told you that I’m bringing your two favorite pot heads as soon as they text me that they’ve packed their bags.”_

“Why do I feel like you’ve been planning this for a while?”

_“I don’t know, why haven’t you called all week?”_

She’s got a thousand excuses on the tip of her tongue but she doesn’t use any of them, “I didn’t think you would want to be friends with someone trapped in a rural nightmare.”

_“I’ll always choose you, Clarke. Even if your life is pretty much over right now.”_

-x-

The drive from Manhattan to Mount Weather is precisely 10 hours and 41 minutes.

Raven made it in nine.

The second the wild Latina walked into her house, she let out a low whistle. It was a little bit much with all the rooms and extra space, even Clarke could admit that. Of course, Raven was used to the amount of money the Griffin’s had and barely let it phase her. It wasn’t long after Raven said her appreciations that Clarke was being wrapped from all angles by her two scrawny friends.

Jasper, Monty, Clarke and Raven had been friends since Clarke’s parents divorced in the third grade. Ayden approved of Jasper and Monty and used to buy weed from them on special occasions. She hadn’t seen her brother to tell him that they would have company.

Somewhere, she knew that Ayden didn’t mean to hurt her feelings or create this new distance. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be upset that he would rather spend all his time with Bellamy Blake than her. And yes, she _only_ blamed Bellamy for his absence because they seemed to be best friends. He was definitely mentioned more than Murphy, Miller and Wick combined.

“Mom.” Jasper chuckled into her hair, “We missed you!”

Her words were watery when she replied, “I missed you guys, too.”

“Aw, guys you’re turning her into a blubbering mess.” Raven groans, “I guess I missed you, too.” She joined the group hug with a quiet laugh.

It didn’t take them long to take the party upstairs—it took an even shorter time for the group to fall into her king size bed. Monty and Jasper laid at the foot of the bed underneath her faux fur blankets and soon drifted off to sleep. Clarke and Raven curled their bodies to accommodate their sleeping arrangements. Raven played with Clarke’s curly hair, not saying what they were all thinking for the sake of keeping Clarke calm.

_Where’s Ayden?_

She knew they would eventually ask, and what was she going to say? _I don’t know._ That had never been the case as long as they lived and they had lived in Manhattan. “How long are you going to stay?” Clarke asked quietly because she needed to know how long she would have her self-assigned family with her.

“Go to sleep, Clarke. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Raven replied softly, “It’s been a long week without you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

-x-

Clarke cusses under her breath when she stubs her toe against the door frame. It’s far too early for her to be awake, especially after she waited up for Raven and the boys to arrive. She’s a stumbling mess because of her resistance to open her eyes. It isn’t until she runs into a body that she doesn’t recognize that she cracks her lids, not that she _needed_ to since the person decided open his mouth. “Mmm, watch it Princess.” She didn’t notice his hand on her hip until her body started to warm because her eyes kept running over his shirtless form.

“Ugh,” Clarke growls when they make eye contact, _“You.”_ He moved his hand across her skin but did not let go. She remembered that her hair was a mess because Raven relentlessly carded her fingers through her hair well after she fell asleep. There might even be a little drool on the corner of her mouth.

“Me.” He smirks devilishly, eyes gleaming brightly. “As much as I would enjoy talking to you, my little sister has been calling me for the last hour wondering where the hell I am.” It takes her a moment to recognize the scent on his breath when he talks, but once she does she leans in to take a bigger whiff. “Hey, I like you but I respect Ayden and you’re—“

“You were drinking last night?” Clarke asks, taking a step back with an incredulous glare. She’s not an idiot, she’s also not a person that believes teenagers shouldn’t drink. Hell, she’s been known to get completely wasted with Raven and the boys but there was something about Ayden getting drunk without her being able to take care of him that bothered her. What if something had happened? He’d known Bellamy Blake for a week and somehow the guy had his trust? What the hell is going on? “Did Ayden drink, too? Did you let him drive drunk?” She raises her voice as she asks the questions, completely ignore the beginnings of his confession when he thought she was trying to kiss him.

As if she would kiss him, she knew her morning breath was ridiculous.

Bellamy looks down at her while she’s cursing their height difference, lips quirked. “I think he can make his own decisions, Princess.” Clarke knows that he’s right but his smugness is killing her and she’s starting to miss the way his hand felt against her side. It’s weird for her to want the skin of a stranger, it’s weird for her to want anyone.

She hasn’t _wanted_ someone. Ever. It’s the side effect of having two older, handsome brothers who enjoy the company of others. Clarke knows that all teenage boys are ridiculously horny and she knows that Bellamy is no different. “Get the hell out of my house.” She childishly commands him, almost stomping her foot against the hardwood floors of the second story for emphasis.

“Are you serious?” Clarke is so tired of hearing his mocking laugh that she wants nothing more than to punch him in his face. His stupid, beautiful face.

“Yes!”

“Clarke—“ She hears Jasper calling her name from her room, “—come back to bed.”

She hears Bellamy chuckle under his breath, “Looks like I’m not the only one that makes bad decisions.” There’s something darker in his eyes now—something she doesn’t want to recognize but she does. It’s envy.

“Oh, grow up. I’ve got friends in from New York.” Clarke tells him, fist balling in defense. Who the hell does he think he is? Bellamy Blake has no right to be _anything_ when it comes to her. They haven’t know each other long enough for him to care what she does in her bedroom, or with who. They’ve only talked a handful of times and it’s always been full of banter and passive aggressive words.

“That share your bed?” His voice is lower now as if he’s inserting his masculinity into the conversation. Clarke wants to call him a caveman, wants to tell him to get out again but she’s momentarily frozen by the _sexiness_ of his tone. “The layers of your personality astound me.” He probably meant it to sound negative but his words were words of amazement as if she were a puzzle he had to solve. As if she were the only puzzle he wanted to solve.

Which wasn’t true because she heard Ayden talking on the phone with him two nights ago when they were preparing for bed about how Bellamy had multiple romantic partners and how, no, it wasn’t weird that Bellamy and Roma hooked up once at a party.

In Clarke’s opinion, it was totally weird.

Despite this, she finds herself rolling her eyes for the thousandth time. “Watch it…you almost sound jealous.” She doesn’t regret saying it when she sees him frown and she definitely doesn’t regret it when he takes a step forward.

“I wouldn’t let a boy share a bed with my sister.” He tells her quietly, voice even lower than before. It’s almost husky and Clarke can feel goosebumps breaking across her ivory skin. Her mind rewinds to what he was saying earlier about _liking_ her and how he, what? Respected Ayden? Clarke had a sneaking suspicion his overall hesitations (but utter lack of control) stemmed from the fact that he had a little sister that he wouldn’t want his friends to be flirting with.

“Lucky for me, I’m not your sister.” Clarke takes a step closer, eyes darting to his lips for a second. His eyes seemed to do the same to hers. She knows that he wants to kiss her.

“But you’re my friend’s sister…and I like Ayden. He’s a good guy.”

“Right,” Clarke faked a smile, “I get it. I should get back to my friends.”

“Clarke—“

“Bellamy, it’s easier to forget this, don’t you think?”

“Not at all.”

**_I wanted to stop the inevitable disappointment, truly, I did._ **

-x-

Five

-x-

Raven waited until they were stuck in a booth in a place called Aurora’s Bar & Grill to ask her about “the boy in the hallway.” Her friend was sipping on a virgin margarita, fingers twisting the straw around the large cup before she actually brought it up. Raven normally didn’t do _virgin_ but she thought it would be a lot harder to order genuine alcohol in a place that actually cared about identification. “So, Jasper told me you were having quite the dramatic conversation this morning in the hallway.” Clarke’s eyes instantly narrow in the direction of Jasper. He takes a long gulp before he wraps his lips around the straw in his water. When they ordered drinks from the bar, he claimed he needed to stay hydrated. Clarke didn’t even want to know what the hell he was planning on doing afterwards.

She fumbles underneath the table, the toe of her wedge connecting with jean material. It only takes her a second to pull her foot back and slam it against the unsuspecting victim. Monty yelped, “Ow!” Clarke’s eyes widen when she realizes that she kicked the wrong person. She watches Jasper gulp once more before she shifted her foot to the right a kicked him hard. Clarke didn’t know if she used too much force or if _knowing_ that he was about to get hurt made him squeal like a toddler.

Clarke leans across the table, “You’re the biggest gossip I know!” She hisses because she didn’t want anyone to know about Bellamy and her moment. If people knew, it would be harder to put it behind her. It was a moment of weakness, she was tired and her libido was heightened because of the morning. She was _not really_ attracted to Bellamy Blake. “Fine, Ayden’s friend and I almost…I don’t even know what we almost did but it was more than what you’re supposed to do with your brother’s friend.”

“So, you two like each other?”

“He’s Ayden’s friend.” Clarke repeats, picking at her fingers instead of looking at Raven. “It’s honestly nothing. I’m sure Jasper made a bigger deal about it than necessary.”

Jasper coos, “I don’t think so…I think you’ve got feelings for the guy with the deep voice.”

“Clarke doesn’t do relationships, remember?” Monty points out, a polite smile breaking across his face. Back in Manhattan, they’d heard a thousand and seven different version of why she didn’t date. There were guys that captured her attention and then it quickly faded because she would remind herself that people were _shallow—men, especially._ The last person she was involved with was Lexa and that had been one make out session just _because_ she was incredibly kissable. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it. The whole relationship thing is overrated, anyway. Crushes pass, let this one pass before it drives a wedge between you and Ayden.”

“Monty’s right.” Raven agrees with a head nod, nearly choking on her drink as she hurriedly explained her reasoning. “I mean, I’m sure he’s great but you and Ayden have that whole _forever and ever_ thing…it’s not worth the arguments that would occur.”

“I know, okay?” Clarke says a little too fast to sound genuine.

“Does your vagina?”

Jasper snorts while nudging Monty in the side, “I’m creating a drinking game based off of how many times Raven says vagina.”

The whole table starts to laugh as Raven begins to repeatedly say, “Vagina, vagina, vagina.” Until their waitress is standing at the end of the table with a raised eyebrow, pen tapping against the notepad. Clarke ceases her laughing as a sign of respect but Monty is still giggling like a school girl. Clarke watches as Jasper starts to worship their waitress, as if she’s Aphrodite reincarnated with a black apron tied tightly around the waist of her denim skinny jeans. Her name tag reads, _Octavia_ and Clarke marvels on how unique the name is.. _._ almost like Clarke is a unique name for a girl and Ayden is a different version of _Aiden_ for a boy. Before she can ask them what she wants, Raven slips one more “vagina” in just to make Monty continue his laughing fit.

This luckily makes _Octavia_ start to laugh with her entire body, “I’m Octavia but you can call me O. I haven’t seen you guys around. Are you from out of town?” The very real curiosity in her eyes makes Clarke wonder if the girl, who couldn’t be younger than sixteen, had ever been out of the town the blonde had labeled _“hell.”_

Jasper offers her his hand instead of answering the question, “I would buy you a drink but you’re working.” He says with a goofy grin plastered on his face. Raven gags, nudging Clarke with her elbow to force her into squirming like they have social issues.

His best friend throws his head back, “And the fact that you’re seventeen has nothing to do with your inability to buy her a drink.”

“No game.” Raven mutters into her margarita before finally replying to Octavia’s question. “We’re New Yorkers but Griffin here is officially a townie.”

“Griffin?” Octavia questions, “As in Ayden Griffin?”

“That would be my brother, yes. I’m Clarke.”

“Your brother is actually friends with my brother. Uh, Bellamy Blake? He’s, uh, something else.” Octavia is sheepish as she regards Ayden. Clarke’s not an idiot, she knows that her brother hasn’t been on his best behavior since they settled a week ago. He was probably involved in some pretty stupid shit at this point. “I actually think I’ve seen you around school.”

The Griffin twins could be quite destructive when they wanted to be. And Clarke had a feeling Ayden didn’t know what to be anymore. He did not deal with loneliness well and he’d never been away from the party for very longer. Naturally, he’d been compelled to a group of guys who clearly liked to drink and stay out all night. It seemed that Octavia had quickly discovered in a short time that Ayden likes to go above and beyond—he likes to be the ringleader; the drunkest, the highest, the loudest.

Jasper nosily whispers to Raven, “Hallway guy!”

A woman calls Octavia’s name sternly from the other side of the bar. Clarke recognizes the resemblance and comes to the conclusion that it’s her mother. The only explanation for Octavia’s mother to be there was… “Let me guess, that’s your mom? And she’s the owner of this place?”

“That would be her.” She taps her pen against the notepad a few times before she mutters, “If it were up to her, I would be confined in this damn restaurant for the rest of my life. I guess I should probably take your orders now before she cuts my pay. I’m saving up to get the hell out of here.” _Amen._ They ordered a round of chili cheese fries, chicken poppers and this thing Raven wanted to try with a lot of jalapeño in it. With a look over her shoulder to see if her mother was in the vicinity, Octavia wrote her number down on a blank piece of paper and whispered, “ _Us_ little sisters have to stick together or the glow of our golden boy brother’s will wash out our skin.” Jasper nearly wrestles Clarke for her number when Octavia turns away.

While Jasper acts like a fool, Raven comments with an impressed curve of her eyebrows. “She’s hot…and if her brother shares her genes, you are so screwed.” Clarke knows that she’s screwed, okay? She’s know from the moment she met Bellamy Blake, but maybe being friends with his sister well give her the perspective he seems to have. Plus, Octavia seems pretty damn cool and they already have some things in common like getting the hell out of Mount Weather.

Monty starts single a Selena Gomez song as if to influence Clarke in a completely different direction than the one he was pushing her towards minutes ago. “The heart wants what it—“

“Do you think Ayden’s oka—“ Clarke starts to ask Raven if she thinks Ayden’s behavior has struck her as weird. She can’t remember a time when she felt like she didn’t know anything about him…and it’s weird because it’s only been a week.

_It’s only been a week._

“ _Clarke!”_ Her concerned question is interrupted by no other than Kyle Wick. Clarke turns around and is met with his wide grin and flirtatious eyes. He is not with his girlfriend, but his friends which includes her obviously hungover brother and, fuck, Bellamy. She does not want to meet his expectant brown eyes but she finds herself looking at him under hooded lashes as Wick pulls up a table, allowing it to screech across the floor as if he owns the place—well, Bellamy’s mom does so it’s probably okay. The boy’s take a seat without even asking if they can join them. She watches Bellamy hesitate for a moment but then he takes the seat adjacent to her.

Ayden does not look well—he barely looks human and this bothers her. The irrational anger towards Bellamy fueled once more, the fire burning through her body. It takes her a moment to swallow down her multiple lines of questions. She settles on a, “Hey, baby” as Wick moves to sit close to her. He makes a show of stealing Ayden’s seat and everything like a child and somehow it warms her heart. It makes her laugh.

But it’s unsettling that he isn’t hungover and neither is Bellamy…it makes her remember last year when Ayden was put in the hospital for alcohol poisoning. It makes her remember how he nearly fought Jasper one night because he didn’t have the proper amount of weed. It makes her remember that her brother isn’t as perfect as she thinks he is…it makes her scared that they’re repeating the process and he isn’t better like he so often told her four months ago before the whole moving thing was announced.

Wick fakes a heavy sigh, “She called me baby, did you hear that guys?” Bellamy and Ayden ignore him but Clarke knows that Bellamy is ignoring him for an entirely different reason. It’s in his jealous dark eyes and the way his fingers tighten around the salt shaker.

Clarke feels the sudden need to speak so she makes quick work of introductions. “Uh, these are my friends from New York. Jasper Jordan, Monty Green and Raven Reyes.”

“Raven Reyes from New York?” Wick pokes out his lip and the seriousness and amazement in his tone shocks Clarke. It’s a different type of interest, it’s a different side of Kyle Wick that she did not know existed. “You wouldn’t be the wrench monkey that made that issue of—“ _Oh my god, he’s a nerd._

“Excuse me? Wrench monkey?” Raven straightens her body to address Wick as if she’s preparing for a court case. Clarke had seen Raven prepared for a court case before due to some assault beef between her ex-boyfriend and a girl he cheated with. Truth be told, it wasn’t the whore who decided to press charges—it was that dumbass bitch, Finn Collins. The same Finn Collins that tried to sleep with Clarke after Raven introduced them. “I’ll have you know that I am one of the _best young_ mechanics since—“

“Since that one guy in Wisconsin…blah, blah, blah yeah I read the article, sweetheart.” Wick is leaning over Clarke to talk to Raven. Eventually their conversation turns into a “Wrench Measuring” contest involving how smart they are and who has the better chance of getting into MIT. Clarke hears Ayden mumbling under his breath about the amount of noise in the establishment.

When she looks at Bellamy this time, he’s looking at her. The tension is ridiculous between them because she wants to blame him for not taking care of Ayden last night but she also wants to jump his bones right on the table haphazardly connected to her booth. His ruffled black hair looked slept on and she wondered if he’d ever straightened himself after he left her house this morning. Clarke also wanted to know why the boys felt the need to hang out all the time. They just parted that _morning,_ why were they hanging out _now?_

It felt weird to have two parts of her life at the conjoined table—Manhattan socialite with nerdy friends and a pension for a good laugh versus the quiet twin sister of the new guy sleeping with Roma. She wondered if Bellamy thought he was seeing her in a new light… If he _liked_ what he saw. Clarke wanted to know if he appreciated the low cut tank, or her white shorts.

She hadn’t worn them for him, but she was feeling the need to take them off _only_ for him.

Clarke shakes her head because that’s not her. She isn’t that girl that gets charmed by a boy with a crooked grin in a bar. It’s such a cliché for a city girl like herself to be swept off her feet by a townie. Clarke never liked clichés.

Luckily her train of thought was interrupted when Octavia returned with their small order. The brunette releases an exasperated sigh when she sees that their table as grown. Her eyes dart to Ayden, recognition filtering through her eyes. Everyone knows that he’s got a hangover in the middle of the afternoon when none of his friends seem to carry the same symptoms. Clarke finds herself blushing for her brother, looking away from the waitress so she can’t see how ashamed she is with his public behavior.

“I swear, you better tip big this time Wick.” Octavia clears her throat after a moment, setting down the chili fries in front of Clarke and offering her a small smile.

“Oh,” Wick gives her one of his winks, “I will.” And then he returns to his argument with Raven, the smile remaining on his lips as Raven becomes belligerent.

“Look, Wick flirts with everyone’s sisters.” Ayden finally speaks like a normal person. “I swear, if I didn’t like you so much we would fight about your infatuation with my sister.” Clarke and Bellamy look at each other and she knows that neither one of them have forgotten their morning episode. They almost _kissed._ Clarke almost kissed her brother’s friend in their hallway.

Wick waves his hand dismissively, “Oh, you know it’s harmless. I like my girls without brains.”

“Oh, so you like having something in common with your dates? I heard that’s good.” Raven comments, finishing off her margarita with a loud slurp. Wick watches the action before flipping her the bird with a low chuckle. Clarke decides to switch seats with Wick, moving next to Ayden and across from Bellamy. She notices when their feet touch, she notices how his head shoots up and he looks at her with intense eyes.

“When they get married, I want to be the Maid of Honor.” Clarke hears Jasper whisper to Monty and has to fight a smile because she doesn’t want Bellamy to think she’s smiling because he’s brushing her feet with his own underneath the table. She wishes he had more self-control—but then again, she doesn’t. She doesn’t want him to stop touching her or to stop wanting her.

She wants him.


	2. Part II (One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first installment of Part II:
> 
> Clarke runs into Octavia at a party.

PART II

**Though, if I am being honest with myself I never had a chance.**

-x- One -x-

“Clarke,” Her mother’s voice was the equivalent of nails raking down a chalkboard. Clarke was wearing one of her more revealing tops because Raven picked her outfit via Snap Chat the night before. It’s been four days since her best friends left and returned to the place she desperately wanted to be. Four days. “Jackson sent me your grade checkpoint, I’m impressed.” Naturally, Abby Griffin was only interested in her grades. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had spoken to her mother since the move. “I honestly did not know you valued your education so much.”

Clarke didn’t react to her comment. She hadn’t been involved in years, she wouldn’t know that her daughter was currently second in her class—some asshole named Wells Jaha was number one right now because Raven and Clarke skipped school a lot the year before. She was lucky she could maintain her GPA. After a moment, Clarke nodded and said, “Thank you.”

It wasn’t until Ayden ran down the stairs with his book bag slung over his shoulder that their mother spoke up, “Ayden James Griffin!” Abby raised her voice—there was always more passion when she addressed him. Clarke tried to not let envy run through her on that subject. She was getting the better end of the deal with Abby only caring about her grades. It allowed her to focus on her art, something only her father and Lincoln supported.

Clarke could draw for hours without an interruption from her mother. Whereas Ayden suffered the attention of the woman whenever she felt like playing ‘mom’.

She hears her brother groan, “Yes?”

“Your grades.” Abby told him flatly, “Or better yet, your absences. You’ve been in school for nine days. Last week you missed ten classes. This week, you’ve only attended four. Four classes in four days. It’s Friday so I imagine you aren’t going _anywhere_ this weekend in an attempt to repair your grades.”

Ayden looks pleadingly at Clarke before scoffing as if _she_ betrayed him, “Are you shitting me?” Abby’s eyebrows rose to her hairline at the utter disrespect of her son, on the verge of eighteen, finally cussing at her. “Like, fuck mom I’ll get it done. You don’t have to restrict my life to pretend you’re actually involved.”

She wants to laugh—really, she does but the inkling that her brother is possibly high at 7:50 AM ruined the fact that he was giving their mother a piece of his mind. It ruined a lot of things, actually. Clarke knows she’s going to have to talk to him eventually but she’s scared due to the fragile situation. She’s scared because last time he got in trouble, she almost lost him. Even if his absence in her life lately was a bother, they still had their moments. Clarke lived for those moments when she didn’t feel like a complete outcast hanging onto New York life as if she’s playing out her _Carrie Diaries_ dreams. (Which she totally obsessed over, don’t ever let her lie.)

Rather than laughing, she takes a deep breath and dumps her orange juice into the sink. Lowly, she mutters something about possible traffic and rushes out of the house. She already knows she’ll be taking her own car _again._ She already knows she’ll be walking into school without him _again._ Clarke’s sitting in her car a solid five minutes before she starts it, contemplating spilling her guts to Raven about her brother’s apparent problem.

And Raven would understand because her mother goes through the same shit all the time. Raven would be the one to talk to in this situation—but she doesn’t call Raven, even if she should. Instead, she turns her car on and blasts Bebe Rexha’s new CD even if she’s sort of conditioned to listen to rap music when she’s upset. She listens to her songs all the way to Mount Weather’s packed parking lot and even when she’s in a parking place, she doesn’t turn it off. She reaches in her bag and pulls out her sketch pad because _fuck everything and everyone,_ she needs to draw.

Clarke’s used to drawing the skyline and laughing faces—she used to drawing her home, her heart, her fears and her sadness. She’s used to drawing Ayden. Clarke doesn’t draw anything she’s familiar with, though. It takes her a moment to realize she’s drawing trees and the moon. It takes her a second to realize her drawings are increasingly earthy in nature.

She strokes her charcoal pencil a few more times before she does what she really wants to do—call her brother. Lincoln, not Ayden. Even if there’s a time difference, he answers almost seconds after she presses the call button. _“Hey, what’s up?”_

“He’s doing it again, Linc.”

Lincoln sucks in a deep breath, _“Drinking or the drugs?”_

“I don’t know, both maybe.” Her hands fly to her hair as a nervous habit, “I’m probably overreacting. I don’t care if he’s smoking weed. That’s not an issue with me—stop prohibition, I say…but drinking every night…and Bellamy’s not even drunk when he shows up, it’s just Ayden. It’s always just Ayden. He always has to take it too far.”

_“Bellamy one of his friends…or yours?”_

“Why would you say that?”

 _“The way you said his name. It’s almost poetic.”_ Lincoln is ridiculous sometimes, Clarke can say this. Though, he might just have a point on this one. _“Clarkey has a cruuush on little brother’s friend.”_

“Stop, he’s a major dick.”

 _“I don’t want to know about his dick, Clarke. Thanks for the overshare.”_ He’s laughing hard at his own inappropriate joke. She cracks a smile because of course he would say something like that. It was his way of making her feel better.

Clarke snorts, “Shut up…Linc, I’m just worried about Ayden. He’s my best friend, no offense.”

 _“None taken, you’ve got that whole twin connection thing going on._ ” Lincoln pauses and Clarke can hear the sound of him messing around with a few papers. _“You know those pieces I was working on last September? I finally finished them and they’ve been added into a gallery…I know Ayden doesn’t give a shit about art but you do—“_

“I, uh, Linc you know how mom is but I’ll ask, okay?”

He sighs, _“Yeah, I know. I just miss you Little Sister.”_

“Not as much as I miss you, bigger brother.”

-x-

The black envelope lands on her desk with a firm _slap._ She doesn’t even read the silver lettering before her eyes shoot up to the person who so rudely covered up her Biology notes. Like, damn she was trying to study way to be fucking rude. She is met by Wells Jaha’s smiling face, “It’s a party.”

“Clearly.” Clarke raises an eyebrow, “Just so you know…I don’t like you.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, “You hardly know me.” Wells counters and extends his hands as if he’s about to launch into a long speech. Clarke shifts her body to accept said speech because it’s been a pretty fucking terrible day, okay? Ayden’s texted her seven times (and counting…) about helping him out with his missed assignments which roughly translates into her doing them while he goes out tonight. She’s got an unopened email from Jackson and she feels like a horrible sister because of Lincoln’s art gallery debut.

She knows she should be there for that.

She knows that if she was living with her dad, she _would_ be there for it.

“Let me guess...your family has money, just like mine so you think we’ve got some type of common ground. We don’t, just so you know. You’re small town, honey and I’m a New Yorker.” Clarke finishes and there’s a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips. Wells has the same smile plastered to his face. He’s drinking her in and she wants to tell him to stop—she’s taken, but she’s not really taken, is she? Flirting with Bellamy isn’t going anywhere and if their last interaction was any indication of the establishment of a relationship, they were never going to be anything to each other but semi-friends.

Wells breathes, “A New Yorker that doesn’t like to party.”

“I love to party.” _Not really._

He shrugs, “It’s probably good that you’re going to stay home tonight anyway…gotta catch up on your GPA race, right?”

Clarke scrunches up her nose, “Oh, you’re on Jaha. I’ll be there and I will _show all of you small town fools_ how to party.”

“I’ll be counting on it.”

_He is not winning._

-x-

The music is too loud.

She’s confident that the party-planning gods are frowning on Kappa Kappa Sigma’s frat house because the event is entirely ridiculous. The fact that Wells Jaha even invited her to the epitome of hell makes her blood boil. Did she even look like the type of girl that would enjoy kegs of _warm_ beer and Dorito dust? Hell no.

Ayden’s called her four times since she arrived on campus and once since she decided to chug down her bottle of water instead of drinking from one of the cups big football playing assholes were offering her. She’s about to call it a night, “Screw Jaha and his lame as party” was her mantra at this point, when she sees someone she knows tripping up the stairs with a guy pulling her arm.

_Octavia._

She doesn’t know what makes her run in the direction of the girl she met almost a week ago. Clarke _sees_ the way the frat guy is practically dragging her around. She see the sway in her steps and the blank look on her face when Clarke calls her name.

It’s obvious that she’s either beyond drunk or has been drugged.

And it’s obvious that this guy plans on taking advantage of her kind of friend.

Clarke’s bounding up the stairs as fast as she can but it’s difficult because people keep getting in her way. All she knows is that she won’t let anything happen to Octavia. Nothing can happen to Octavia. Adrenaline carries her up the stairs and to the room where she saw the douche take Bellamy’s little sister until she’s throwing herself into the room and automatically kicking the half-naked fool between his legs. “The fuck?” He yells but Clarke doesn’t even answer him. She doesn’t feel the need to answer him when he’s on the ground, holding his junk. “You fucking bitch!”

“Octavia—“ Clarke extends her arm towards the girl. Her “date” looks angry and she knows that when he’s able to get up, he’ll try something. “—Octavia, come on let’s get out of here!” O stumbles into her arms and Clarke has to use all her strength to help her stand on her feet. “Do you have your phone?”

“Whaa?”

“Do you have your phone?”

“Yeah…” She puts her hand down the front of her olive green dress and pulls out an iPhone. “ _Hewyougooo_. I—it—dead.”

“Great.” Clarke mutters under her breath.

Their feet are heavy as Clarke uses muscles she hasn’t in years carrying Octavia. The blonde is trying to be quick about it in fear that the unwelcomed asshole will return to finish his date rape process. She’s trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach at the thought. It isn’t until they’re out in the front yard that she knows she needs to contact someone about her condition. Clarke reaches into the dip of her dress and pulls out her phone.

Fuck, she doesn’t want to call Ayden but she has to.

The ringing lasted for a few seconds before Ayden answers with a sigh, _“Where the fuck are you? Mom is going to lose her shit about this work. I needed you tonight.”_

“Listen, Ayden you can be mad later…I need Bellamy’s number.”

 _“Why the hell do you need Bellamy’s number?”_ He growls before he gives it to her, _“You going to be home, soon? We should probably talk.”_

“There’s nothing going on—“ Clarke breathes, “It’s his sister, that’s the only reason I need his number, okay?”

_“Whatever.”_

Clarke leads Octavia over to the library where she parked and sits her down on the steps. It takes her a moment to dial the number in which she’s already memorized. She waits for Bellamy to answer with bated breath, her heart beating miserably in her chest. Octavia’s resting her forehead against her shoulder. She’s aware of everything around her—the way the concrete is cold beneath her bare legs and how the wind is starting to pick up in the chilly air. Finally, there’s a confused “ _Hello?”_

“Bellamy.” Clarke sighs in relief, “It’s Clarke…I, I ran into Octavia at this party and she’s pretty messed up. I would drive her home but I don’t know where you live and her phone’s dead.”

_“Where are you?”_

“The university library. Listen, I can take her home just—“

_“I’m on my way.”_

“Bellamy—“

_Nothing._

Clarke lets her fingers play in Octavia’s hair as she leans into her. “Your brother is on his way…” She whispers to her, “I’m sorry that dick did this to you.” Octavia only answers with a distant hum. She thinks about Bellamy and the way his voice sounded completely _protective—_ not pissed off like her own brother.

They stay in front of the library for fifteen minutes before Clarke’s blinded by headlights and jerked out of her daze by the sound of a car door slamming. “Clarke!” Bellamy yells in her direction and her head shoots up. Octavia groans but yet again, doesn’t say anything. “Hey, is she okay?” He jogs forward as Clarke tries to help Octavia stand.

“I think she needs to sleep.” Clarke looks at him, “I—just so you know, nothing happened to her.”

Octavia snorted, “Clarkekickedhimintheballs.”

“What?” He raises his eyebrows, “You fought someone?”

“She’s my friend.” Clarke shrugs and tries not to meet his eyes. “She’d do the same for me.” She helps him put her in his car, expecting the conversation to be over. When he shuts the door to the passenger side, he turns around and grabs her face. Bellamy hesitates for a second before he pulls her into a searing kiss.

She lets out a little yelp in response before he fingers are curling in his dark hair. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue dance across the seam of her lips before she welcomes him. It isn’t until she releases a small, almost mute moan that he pulls away. “Thank you.” He whispers before he pecks her lips one last time.

 _I’m a liar._ Clarke thinks back to her conversation with Ayden earlier, her eyes widening because she just kissed the guy who just might be his best friend. They just kissed. Part of her, though, is ecstatic because Bellamy Fucking Blake kissed her and that just makes her feel worse. _I’m a horrible sister._ “That can’t happen again.” She says before her heart can catch up with her sisterly duties. “You’re Ayden’s friend and you were right last weekend…you were right and this is wrong.”

“I know.” He nods his head, “I just had to kiss you, Princess…just once.”

“I know.” She smiles but her heart is sinking into her stomach the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to break Part II into sections but there will be five sections (and a Part III, I might add). 
> 
> I really appreciate the feedback--I didn't expect people to respond the way they have. Keep the comments coming, I could really use some opinion on direction.


	3. Part II (Two)

Part II:

**At this point, I’d be happy with you walking around and hating me for the rest of our lives if that meant you would talk to me.**

-x- Two -x-

Her lips still tingled when she walked in the Grill Saturday morning after Octavia texted her back saying she was working and Clarke should stop by. Bellamy was one hell of a kisser. She carried the weight of his mouth against hers all the way to the booth she sat at with Raven and her friends the weekend before, hoping she wouldn’t see him. It took a few moments for Octavia to join her—god, she looked super hungover. “I just want to tell you that I’m not a sloppy drunk.”

Clarke offers her a comforting smile, “That makes one of us.”

“I was pretty out of it last night.”

Her mouth runs dry at the thought of last night. Her teeth start their nervous assault on her bottom lip, “Yeah…luckily Ayden wasn’t being a complete dick and gave me your brother’s number.”

“Mhm…listen, cut the shit I saw you making out with my brother.” Clarke’s lips part before she snaps her jaw shut and looks at the table. “I like you Clarke, I really like you so I’m going to tell you that Bellamy isn’t the relationship type.” Clarke squirms in her seat, “I don’t want you to get hurt…and I’m not saying this to be mean but Bellamy is involved with someone—her name is Echo, she’s a senior at the high a town over...”

Clarke starts having flashbacks to Finn Collins and how her best friend had gone through a situation like this. How had Raven handled it? Oh, yeah— _violence._ It was not an option for her. “Oh.” She must appear as if she’s fascinated with the bruised table. “Well, good thing it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Yeah.” Octavia shrugs, “I guess we both made mistakes last night.”

“I guess so.”

-x-

Ayden is drunk when he stumbles into the house with their mother on his heels. “I’m not going to witness you making a fool of yourself again.” She can hear her saying in a motherly tone as her high heels click against the tile of the foyer. Clarke swallows hard and looks away from her school books and down at her feet. It’s been a completely shitty day for her and Clarke can’t handle one of their fights.

Because Bellamy kissed her while he’s seeing someone else.

Because her brother is a drunk ass who only cares about himself now.

And she’s living in fucking Mount Weather, South Carolina with a bunch of jackasses.

Her mother opens her mouth to address Clarke but her daughter stands up, nearly knocking the chair against the ground in her process. “I’m not doing this tonight. If you two want to fight, do it without me.” She grabs her laptop and heads towards the front door, shoving past her brother who only snorts in response.

She doesn’t spare them a look when she rushes out of the house and gets into her car. At this point, she only has one friend that she can talk to and she’s working a double shift. Clarke walks into Aurora’s only interested in talking about her brother and what an awful day it’s been. But she sees him with who she assumes is Echo in the corner of the restaurant area. She sees him press his lips against hers and a shiver runs through her bones.

Because f _uck him_ and fuck everyone in this stupid town.

She has to fight herself from channeling her inner Raven when she sits down and opens her laptop. _Breathe, just breathe_ she repeats in her head over and over again until she’s confident the little saying doesn’t really work. It only takes her a few seconds to decide to call Lincoln while she waits—he always makes her smile. Clarke has to dig into the pocket of her jeans to retrieve her headphones before she calls.

_Breathe._

Clarke nearly cries when she sees Lincoln’s face. _“What’s wrong?”_ Lincoln leans forward with a furrow in his brow. _“Ayden do something?”_

She looks away from the camera, blinking back her tears and forcing a humorless smile on her face. “He came home drunk and mom’s there and now they’re fighting…I can’t keep doing this.” Clarke sighs and has to retain herself from looking over at Bellamy. “I’m jealous of him, you know? He gets all her attention and the only fucking thing she wants to talk about are my grades.”

 _“Have you talked to dad recently? I’m sure that will make you feel better.”_ Lincoln offers with an encouraging curve of his lip. _“Hey, Clarke…Clarke don’t cry. It’s going to be alright. Ayden will be okay and mom…mom is mom, she’s always going to be cold and distant but in a few months it won’t even matter because you’ll be going to college.”_

“We were thinking about running away…and now, I’m not even sure if we’re a _we_ anymore.” Clarke tells her older brother, “He keeps saying, _only six months left_ but then he’s making a life here while I’m just standing still.”

_“Little sist—who’s that?”_

Clarke looks behind her and smiles. It’s Octavia. “Oh, uh, that’s Bellamy’s little sister.”

 _“How little?”_ He quirks an eyebrow and Clarke lets out a small laugh in response. _“She’s very stunning…god, I think I just found my muse.”_

“Over FaceTime?” She snorts, “That’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

_“So, this Bellamy guy?”_

“Dick.” Clarke confirms with a small sigh. Finally, Octavia joins her with a strange look on her face. Lincoln looks fairly hypnotized with her proximity. “Lincoln, meet Octavia—Octavia, meet Lincoln. He thinks you’re pretty. That’s his speechless face.”

Octavia leans forward and grabs the earpiece with the mic connected to it, “It’s nice to meet you Lincoln.”

Her brother just waves.

“I have one last table to bus and then I’m all yours. You okay? You came in with this look on your face that one could describe as murderous.”

Clarke shrugs, “I think I’m good now.” She’s not good but she’s okay enough to fake it. She’s not good but she’s okay enough to not look over at Bellamy with want in her eyes but with pain in her chest. She knows that she wants him in ways that she can never have him. Clarke knows she’s not over their kiss or the betrayal of him kissing her while he’s obviously involved with someone else.

She knows they had the chance to be epic but they can’t be anything because her loyalty has to stay with Ayden. She has to stand by what Ayden wants or she’s going to lose everything. Even with all the bullshit lately, he’s all the she’s really got in this world next to Lincoln. Nothing can come between that, not even the possibility of a passionate relationship.

Her fingers linger over the end call link after she says her goodbyes to Lincoln with a watery _I love you._ He tells her something about keeping her chin up and focusing on the bright side of things. Clarke doesn’t know if there’s a bright side of things—well, except the fact that this isn’t permanent. She considers calling Raven but what would she even say? _Bellamy kissed me and he’s with some girl named Echo. What do I do?_ She’s never been weak over a guy before, she doesn’t plan on starting now.

Octavia brings her chili cheese fries and they talk about school and the party from the night before. They talk about how Clarke kicked the guy, whose name is Atom, where it hurts. They don’t talk about Bellamy. They don’t talk about the girl practically sitting in his lap. They don’t talk about Ayden.

It’s almost closing time when Clarke stands up and says, “I’ll see you around, Blake.”

“Back at you, Griffin.” Octavia smiles from the booth, finishing off the fries with a smack of her lips. Then, she loudly yells, “And whoever that _hot guy_ is—give him my number. He’s a real cutie.”

Clarke snorts and waves her off, “He’s my brother, Lincoln.”

“Oh.” Octavia sticks out her bottom lip, “I can see the resemblance?”

“Adopted brother.”

“That makes sense.”

“Goodnight, O.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

Her feet carry her to the car and she’s still smiling because somehow, she made it through another night in Mount Weather without completely losing her mind. Clarke knows that she’ll have to deal with Ayden and she should really stop putting it off. She knows that she’ll have to confront her mother eventually, too but not tonight.

Tonight she just wants to go home and—

“Princess!” Clarke tenses up when she hears him use that ridiculous nickname. But she’s tired of being weak for him. She’s tired of wanting him and being obvious about it. Most of all, she’s just tired of him and his stupid game. Bellamy jogs up to her and smirks, looking in the direction of the trees before bringing his eyes back to her. “I thought that was you in there, couldn’t be sure.”

“Right.” She snorts because it’s a classic move she’s seen a thousand times in New York. She reminds herself how small-town the area is again. “Better get back to your girlfriend now that we’ve established I was talking to your sister for the last half hour.”

He chuckles, “Echo is not my girlfriend.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Are you jealous?”

Clarke whips around on her feet, “Of her? Never. You want to know _why_ I’m not jealous, Bellamy? Because you and your dumbass friends—including my brother, not including my brother I don’t even know at this point what he plans to do with his life now that he’s met you—are going to be stuck here forever. And that girl, or some other unfortunate girl, is going to be stuck here f _orever_ in this sad, pathetic miserable town with _you._ You’re the golden boy who thinks he owns this place because he can score and make all the girls drop their panties with a blink of his eye but you won’t even matter in fifteen years when someone else takes your title and you’ve got three kids and no prospects.”

He’s momentarily slack-jawed by her harsh words but Clarke continues anyway.

“And while she’s stuck with you—a guy who kisses other girls and can’t commit---I’m going to be in New York or California with a fucking medical degree in a healthy relationship with a woman or man, it’s a toss-up right now because my brother makes me loathe the male population and it’s a free country—that has enough courage to man the fuck up and stop acting like he has to ask for permission to be with me.”

“You done?” He asks, finding his voice when she huffs with anger.

“No because the worst part of it is, you all have the potential to do something about it. Ayden’s smart, he could be the doctor my mother has to have in the family. It could be him. But he meets you and your friends and decides that he’s going relapse and I’m going to lose him because of _you.”_ She doesn’t even know where it’s coming from. All she knows is, _I’m not okay with any of this._ “You’re so cool getting wasted on the weekends and skipping class, you’re so cool sleeping around and kissing multiple girls, you’re so fucking cool…and in the end, it’s just a set-up for the people that love you idiots to watch you fall from the high school throne you’ve built.”

“Clarke—“

A tear slips down her cheek, “He’s all I’ve got and I’m going to lose him and why’d you have to kiss _me?”_ She doesn’t know how Bellamy can overlook her clear mental breakdown and ugly accusatory words to comfort her. One second she’s backing up to get into her car and the next she’s in his arms crying like an idiot over the fact that nothing is going right with her life.

She’s crying because she knows that Ayden’s losing it.

She’s crying because her mother doesn’t really care about her.

She’s crying because Wick is a secret genius, Miller’s clearly in-the-closet gay, and Bellamy is actually a great person and their throwing it away to fit stereotypes.

And life isn’t fair.

She just doesn’t see a happy ending at the end of this road their travelling down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make me write faster... just throwing that out there. I love the support and the feedback this story is getting and I hope it continues.


	4. Part II (Three)

**But I learned a long time ago that I can’t have everything I want.**

-x-

Three

-x-

“I’ll follow you home.”

He says it when he presses their foreheads together. Clarke’s heart stutters in her chest for a few moments as she goes to wipe the tears from her eyes. Bellamy squeezes her hand and does it for her with the pads of his thumbs. “That’s not a good idea…Ayden’s home and he’s been drinking and my mom—god, my mom’s home for once.” She pulls away from him and puts her hand on her forehead, “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? You must think I’m a total nut case at this point. I’m usually a lot stronger than this.”

“Maybe that’s the problem—always having to be strong for other people.” He muses softly, stepping closer to her again before he’s got her pressed against her car. His fingers play with her blonde tresses, “Is that what you want me to do right now?”

“What?”

“Man up…because I can prove to you that I can man up, Clarke. If you tell me that you want this and you’re not afraid of the outcome of starting something, I’ll tell Ayden that I want to be with you.” He sounds sincere. He looks sincere. Hell, he might even be sincere but in light of things, Clarke can’t seem to trust him.

Not to mention Ayden is walking a fine line between self-destruction and possible incarceration at this point. “I…I like you Bellamy, I’m really attracted to you—more than anyone I’ve ever met and I once kissed a girl that wore leather like cotton.”

“Sounds like an interesting story.” He comments slyly before he nods his head for her to continue.

She clears her throat, “But I’m not a fool. I’m sorry that I said those things the way I said them, but for the most part they are true. You’re better than a stupid ass party on the edge of town where people are yelling _chug, chug, chug_ with balled up fist and chewing tobacco in their teeth.” Bellamy winces as she paints him a picture with her words. “You can tell me to fuck off but I know you’re better because the way you are with your sister…and with me…screams you’re different than what these assholes think. And as long as you’re pretending to be one of those assholes, and dragging my brother around when you know he’s unstable, I can’t want to be with you.”

“You can’t want to be with me?”

Clarke shrugs, “I thought it was obvious that I want to be with you…I just can’t let myself do this with everything going on.”

“I can change.”

“Things Guys Say Before They Let You Down for _200._ ” She mumbles lowly, “The other reason I can’t…I’m moving, Bellamy. In six months, I’m out of here…Ayden’s supposed to come with me, it was his idea in the first place…but I’m leaving.”

“Oh.”

He looks at her with something shy of pathetic in his eyes. “So you’re just going to swoop in a change my life completely before you leave and never turn back?”

“Let’s be honest, in fifteen years you won’t give a fuck about me.” He lowers his head and kisses her when she says it like his lips against hers is the only proof he has that he won’t forget her when she’s gone. His hand drops to her hip and the next thing she knows, she’s being lifted up and positioned on the edge of her trunk. The new angle has her opening her mouth for him, accepting his tongue eagerly. He rubs his hand down her clothed thigh, to her calves, down to her ankle before he locks her leg around him.

 _This isn’t healthy,_ she thinks as she moans his name into his mouth.

Then a thought strikes her, “Wait, wait—“ She pushes at his chest, “—isn’t she still inside? Echo? You left her inside and now you’re making out with me?”

“Clarke, I already told you it isn’t—“

“I’ve heard that line before.” She jumps off the trunk of her car, “Finn Collins: How to Be A Complete Dick 101. It’s never _like that._ ”

“I don’t want to be with her, I want to be with you.” He says firmly, “I want to be with you, Clarke and I don’t care if you’re going to leave me. I don’t care if I only get you for a little bit because I’d be happy just having you for the time you allow me to. Please, Princess…I know it looks bad, but please give me a chance.”

“It shouldn’t be this hard, you know that right? _This_ shouldn’t be hard at all. You’re supposed to meet someone and it’s supposed to be perfect.” Her words are empty because Bellamy’s smiling at her in a way that tells her she’s going to be _his_ girl. In a way that says she already is _his._ Somehow, her lips turn into a smile even if her mind is screaming that she’s making a mistake.

“God, you really are a Princess if you think that’s how relationships work.”

-x-

Clarke knocks on Ayden’s door when she gets home, her teeth tugging on her swollen lip—god, Bellamy knew how to use his mouth—the entire time she listened to her brother stumbling around his bedroom before he opens it. “I didn’t know if you were going to be back tonight.” He tells her groggily, widening the opening of the door so she can step through. “Something on your mind?”

His room lacks personalization unlike Clarke’s room. His comforter set is a dark navy blue and it’s rumpled at the end of the bed. His laptop is open, his Spotify account up on the screen. There’s a McDonald’s bag near his bed along with a few _condom wrappers_ meaning Roma has been over recently. It’s a mess, just like him.

 

“You’re doing it again.” She glares at him because she knows tough love is her only useful approach in the situation. “The drinking, the drugs, the attitude…you’re doing it again.”

He sighs, “So, you come in here at—“ He looks over at his alarm clock, “—1:34 AM to tell me that I need some half-assed intervention? Where the fuck have you been all night, by the way?”

“With Octavia.” It’s not a complete lie and as she looks into her brother’s blue eyes—the same eyes she has—she knows that he accepts it. “I didn’t want to have this conversation…but Ayden, we’ve been here for two weeks now and you’re nearly destructive at this point…and I want to blame the people you’re hanging out with and maybe I can blame Murphy but Wick? Miller? _Bellamy?_ They aren’t ever as fucked up as you and I’m worried.”

“Don’t be.” Ayden cocks his head to the side, “I heard you went to a party with Wells Jaha, that true? Are you his _Princess?_ ” He’s trying to goad her into changing the subject, like always. It’s working because he doesn’t have the right to call her Princess. No one has the right to call her Princess except…except Bellamy. It’s obvious that her lines are being blurred as she looks at her brother with another guy in her heart.

He’s never been second in her book, ever.

She’s never liked someone the way she likes Bellamy.

“Don’t call me that.” Clarke takes a step back with her arms crossed, “Wells and I aren’t together if that’s what you’re concerned about. The whole fucking school is scared to date me because they think you’re a psychopath with an alcohol problem.”

Ayden snorts, “You don’t need to get involved with anyone. We’re only here for a limited time. I don’t know why you’ve befriended the Blake girl anyway.”

“Octavia.” Clarke corrects him automatically, “And probably the same reason you’ve befriended her brother. Why do you get to build a life here while I wait in the shadows for your approval? What if I want to date people? What if I want to make friends and go to parties? Am I truly not allowed to because it’s not what you want?”

He shrugs, “Do you honestly think I’ll be hanging out with those idiots in five years? I won’t be. I like to have fun and that’s never been your priority. I don’t need you trying to fit in with girls like Octavia Blake, it kills my social circles. By the way, I heard she’s a major slu—“

“Are you fucking serious?” Clarke yells as he turns around acting like the conversation is nonchalant. Her eyes are following him, but her brain is a mess of words. “Would you let Bellamy talk about me like that?”

He peeks over his shoulder, “Bellamy would never talk about you like that…he has a _crush_ on you. Don’t feign shock, you know it’s true.” Her heart picks up its pace, slamming against her chest. A light blush creeps up on her cheeks. “The fucker can’t seem to leave you alone…and I thought my problem was going to be with Wick.”

“She’s a good person, Ayden. I don’t care what she does sexually like you don’t seem to care where your whore of a girlfriend lays down at night when she’s not with you.” Clarke shoots back, shaking off Ayden’s words the best she can. “This isn’t you. You aren’t a selfish dick that uses people. You’re better than this.”

“No, _you’re_ better than this—not me. You’re always the perfect one, Clarke. You make good grades, you don’t sleep around, you rarely drink…you’re the one dad wanted to take to Japan but we’re a fucking package deal, okay? So he puts you in this town with me and you’re fucking miserable…and I’m not. I’m not miserable. I don’t _hate_ Mount Weather any more than I hate everywhere else.” He takes a deep breath, “I’m not out of control, Clarke…I’m just not you.”

“I—I don’t want you to be me. I want you to be my brother.”

“I’m tired of being your twin, Clarke.” He holds his hand up in defense when he turns around, “I don’t want to be a package deal anymore, okay? I don’t want to be a _we._ I want there to be a _you_ and a _me._ So, let me be _me._ ”

“You…are you breaking up with me? Are you saying that…you’re done with what we have, just like that? Just because you want to get drunk with the guys and fuck Roma? I’m your sister! I’m your sister and I’m the only person that loves you for _you.”_

“Maybe that’s the problem, Clarke…you think you know me, but you don’t. Not anymore. I guess, in a sense, I am breaking up with you although I think that’s a little melodramatic.”

_“Who the fuck are you?”_

Ayden points to his door, “Just get out. I’m done with this conversation. If you need a shoulder to cry on, call Lincoln.”

-x-

**Clarke:** _How devoted are you to school next week if I can get you a doctor’s excuse?_

**Bellamy:** _What do you have in mind, Princess?_

**Clarke:** _A little vacation…ever been to California?_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'm going way off the reservation with this one. I don't know if I'll continue it or not, it's just an idea in my head. If you like it, comment and tell what you think. Comments inspire me to continue!!  
> -BROOKE.


End file.
